Dirty old man
This is what happens when all the nice jeans are in the wash. I was in a terrible state of not knowing what to wear to dance on Tuesday night, I had been looking after my mates babies all afternoon and desperately wanted to quickly change before heading out. But my good for dancing in jeans were no go, so I had to stay in what I was wearing, which didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the time. I thought I was dressed reasonably presentable, I was wearing a denim mini skirt with my good old comfy boots, what could possibly go wrong?
Well wearing short skirts to dancing isn’t the brightest thing to do. And it’s not that I had a wardrobe malfunction or anything bad happened to my clothes, it’s what happened afterwards when we went to the pub for our after dance drinks. I sat with one of the older and seemingly lovely men, one who is an absolute joy to dance with. He is also a lovely chap to socialise with, or so I thought. Anyhoo, as I said we were sitting together at a table having drinks. This seemingly lovely and much older than me chap put his hand on my bare knee under the table and whispered into my ear ‘theres a motel down the road…’ To which I completely ignored, and grabbed my beer and chugged it down while wondering what the hell to do. He did it again, ‘theres a motel down the road Mandz…’
I said my goodnights and got the hell out of there, but what do I do? Do I tell the other chicky babes that go to dance that he is a dirty old perv? Or do I let it pass and hope that it doesn’t happen again? I don’t think any of the girls would take me seriously to be honest, because he is such a friendly and likeable chap and a dam good dancer. So what do I do?
15
May
you should have slapped him.